


I Said Maybe

by facethefall



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facethefall/pseuds/facethefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school!AU where both Chris and Darren are growing up in San Francisco. When his brother asks him if he’s gay, it gives Darren something to think about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Said Maybe

They meet for the first time the week after Chris’s family moves from Clovis his freshman year in high school. It’s at a theater group down the road from Chris’s new house, a flier in the window advertising for actors needed in an upcoming production of Fiddler on the Roof. Chris’s mom encourages him over dinner, gushing about how it’s the prefect opportunity to make new friends. Chris just shrugs his shoulders and pushes the peas around on his plate.  
  
Chris does end up going, though. He walks in, a little shy, and notices that a lot of the people there are older. He almost backs out and leaves, but a boy who looks about his age, dark curls and wearing a Buzz Lightyear shirt, comes over.  
  
"Dude, I’m so glad there’s someone under the age of forty here," he says, his smile open and inviting. He sticks out his hand. "I’m Darren."  
  
"Chris."  
  
They discover they’re the same age and they go to the same school, but don’t share any classes. Darren promises to sit with him at lunch, though, and show Chris where all the good vending machines are.  
  
They become fast friends. They find out that they live only a few blocks over from each other, but Darren informs Chris it’s even closer than that when you cut through bushes and back yards.  
  
Their friendship isn’t exactly typical. Darren is a people pleaser and makes friends easily. He’s in clubs at school Chris didn’t even know existed.  
  
\  
  
 _"You’re joining what?" Chris asked at lunch one day.  
  
"Rock Club!" Darren had said enthusiastically.  
  
"Is it music related or is it really a club about rocks?"  
  
"I’m not sure. But it just started and Tuesday is the first meeting," Darren said, taking a sip of chocolate milk.  
  
"Right. I’m thinking about starting a writing club," Chris informed him.  
  
"Dude, I will so join!"  
  
Writing club turns out to be just the two of them and their teacher advisor, Mrs. Simanski, who’s hand writing hasn’t been legible in years and who sleeps through meetings._  
  
\  
  
It’s not that Chris doesn’t have friends. He does. But he’s a smart ass and sarcastic and a little intense and just seems to rub some of his fellow teenagers the wrong way. His voice is high and he’s never had a girlfriend and that’s enough to get him taunted by some of his classmates.  
  
But when Chris is sarcastic, Darren just tells him he’s hysterical and when Chris gets super intense about an upcoming debate meeting, Darren just tells him to relax, man, and takes him out for frozen yogurt.  
  
\  
  
"Chuck asked me if I was gay today. Again," Darren says out of nowhere. They’re at Darren’s house, watching the first Harry Potter movie and quoting all the lines.  
  
"Excuse me," Chris says, choking on his Diet Coke.  
  
"Chuck. He asked if I was gay," Darren repeats, a little slower this time.  
  
Chris’s eyes are still watering from the soda and his throat burns a little. “Was he serious? Because Chuck can be sort of an asshole sometimes.”  
  
"When he asked me a couple weeks ago, I assumed he was being a dick and just ignored him. But I think he’s being serious," Darren says. "I think he’s, like, concerned for my well-being or something."  
  
"Okay," Chris says slowly, trying to make sense of their conversation. "Why would he think that?"  
  
"I don’t know. I mean, some of my best friends are the guys at the theater group and they’re gay." Darren stops, considering. "And maybe I’m flirty, but that’s with everybody."  
  
"Darren, none of that makes you gay," Chris tells him, just a touch of sarcasm.  
  
"Yeah, I know. But you’re gay, right?" Darren asks and Chris feels his breath leave his chest.  
  
He’s never come out to anyone. He doesn’t feel the need, really. He knows his family loves and supports him no matter what and he doesn’t really care what everyone else thinks. They can assume what the want.  
  
His grip tightens on the arm of the couch. “Yeah,” he answers honestly and hopes it doesn’t change anything.  
  
"So how did you know?" Darren asks. He’s curious and genuine.  
  
"I guess I always knew? I never really thought about it," Chris says and Darren’s eyes never leave his. "All the guys at school would talk about girls and boobs and it’s just something that never interested me."  
  
"Boobs interest me," Darren says with a huge grin. Chris rolls his eyes.  
  
"Probably not gay, then," Chris reasons and hopes the conversation is over.  
  
"So you always knew. But what if it’s different for me?" Darren says quietly, his eyes down on the floor. "How do I know if I don’t try?"  
  
"Try?" Chris repeats.  
  
"Yeah." Darren suddenly breaks out in a huge smile, like he just thought of the most incredible plan. "We should kiss!"  
  
"No," Chris says automatically. Of course Darren is cute, more than cute, but he’s Chris’s best friend in the whole world and it seems like a line they shouldn’t cross.  
  
"C’mon, Chris," Darren begs, opens his eyes big and wide and Chris can feel his resolve breaking. "Please," Darren continues in the tone of voice he uses to score them free popcorn at the movies.  
  
"Just once?" Chris asks and Darren is already bouncing on his toes.  
  
"Just once, just so I can see what it’s like. You’re my best friend, I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this," and Darren is so earnest that Chris knows his decision is made.  
  
"Okay."  
  
\  
  
They’re sitting on the floor in Darren’s room, legs crossed and ankles digging in to the itchy carpet. Chris keeps his eyes down on the floor, picks invisible lint off of his socks. He looks over to see Darren’s feet are bare, but that’s not surprising. Darren is never wearing shoes.  
  
"I could put some music on?" Darren offers. He pops up on to his knees, his body stretching out to reach a pile of cds sitting on the floor. His shirt shifts, rides up so that a sliver of his lower back in showing.  
  
"No, no music," Chris gets out in a rush. Darren just shrugs his shoulders and plops back down on the floor.  
  
"So, should we just…?" Darren trails off, leaving the question unasked. Chris nods, just a small jerk of his head, and Darren is back up on his knees again. He crosses over the few feet that separate them, coming to a stop when his knees bump into Chris. "I’m going to kiss you now, okay?"  
  
Chris nods again and Darren closes the space between them, propped up on his knees and bending down just a little to kiss Chris. The kiss is relativity short, just firm pressure against both of their lips. Chris breaks away first, clears his throat and asks, “how was that?”  
  
Darren falls back onto his heals. “It was good. Really good. But, when I kiss girls, it’s usually…a little more than that.”  
  
"More how?" Chris asks. He has no real experience kissing. The only other kissing Chris has done had been with a cute boy named Michael, an artistic kid who shared an English class with Chris and Darren sophomore year. It had been quick, stolen kisses underneath stairwells and bleachers and when junior year started, Chris found out Michael’s family had moved to the east coast.  
  
"Well, there’s usually more tongue," Darren says bluntly.  
  
"We could try that," Chris mumbles and tries to will away the blush on his cheeks.  
  
"You’re sure?" Darren asks, excitement bubbling in his voice. Chris doesn’t even answer him before he’s back up on his knees and scooting closer. "You’re so awesome," Darren whispers and Chris can’t tell if that was meant to be said out loud. Darren leans in and at first it’s the same as before. Lips pressed together, the breath from Darren’s nose brushing over Chris’s face.  
  
But then Darren opens his mouth, parts his lips and tries to lick his way into Chris’s mouth. Chris’s jaw drops open in shock and Darren pushes his tongue inside, just as little, just to rub the tip against Chris’s.  
  
Darren reaches an arm out and around Chris’s neck, pulling him in closer to the kiss. Chris is still in shock, his brain shutting off after the first touch of Darren’s tongue against his. Darren pulls back, just a fraction of an inch, his lips moving against Chris’s when he says, “you can kiss back, you know.”  
  
"Right, yeah, okay," Chris stammers. Darren just waits, his lips hovering right above Chris’s, until Chris closes the distance this time and presses their lips together. They start with their mouths open and Chris is the one who pushes his tongue inside, licking carefully passed Darren’s teeth. Darren lets out a groan and his mouth drops open even wider, his fingers digging into the back of Chris’s neck. Chris decides to be brave and bites down lightly on Darren’s lower lip, quickly running his tongue over the impressions left by his teeth.  
  
"Fuck," Darren growls and quickly breaks the kiss, backs up and puts space between them. Chris instantly feels cold.  
  
"Sorry," Chris mutters.  
  
"No, no. Chris. It’s not like that," Darren starts, fumbling over his words and quickly moves over to his bed to grab a pillow and put in on his lap. Chris’s eyebrows draw together, confusion written on his face. "It felt  _too_  good,” Darren explains, gesturing to the pillow in his lap.  
  
Oh.  
  
Okay.  
  
"I don’t know how appropriate a boner would be right now," Darren says and Chris laughs because it’s so typical Darren; the filter from his brain to his mouth never works, oversharing at the most inappropriate times.  
  
"It’s okay," Chris tells him.  
  
"Well, I obviously liked it," Darren says as if the answers to all his problems are now solved. But then it dawns on him, "but I like girls, too."  
  
"Well, you can like both," Chris says. He watches Darren ponder it, like he’s mulling the idea over in his head.  
  
"Yeah, I guess that’s true." He thinks some more. "But I should probably be sure."  
  
"Be sure?" Chris questions, not sure where Darren’s going with this.  
  
"More kissing. Duh," Darren says. "We both liked it, right?"  
  
Chris nods. Of course he liked it. Darren is smart and funny and super attractive in every way and Chris knows these are all reasons why he  _shouldn’t_  make a habit out of kissing his best friend.  
  
"So, like, if I want to make out with you or you want to make out with me, we can do that?" Darren asks, makes sure that they’re on the same page. Because in his mind, this is very clearly the best idea anyone has ever had. Ever.  
  
Chris doesn’t say anything for a moment and Darren’s worried he’s going to say no.  
  
"Yeah, okay. We can do that."  
  
\  
  
Things pretty much stay the same. They’re the same in school. When their English teacher announces they should break off into pairs to go over notes on The Great Gatsby, Darren is already turning around in his desk to face Chris. They still have lunch together, Darren stealing all of Chris’s fries and taking sips of Chris’s iced tea when he gets thirsty.  
  
Darren still plays his guitar for Chris, testing out lyrics and melodies, and Chris still tells Darren he’s in for a life of playing for tourists down at Fisherman’s Wharf. They still laugh and joke, still find it to be the funniest thing in the world to lock Chuck out of the house until Darren’s parents get home from work.  
  
So it’s something they do sometimes, when they have an empty house or the back seat of a car. It’s heated making out, lips and tongue and panting into each other’s neck. They keep their hips angled away from each other, careful to keep their hands above their waists. When things get a little too hot, Chris is usually the one who pulls away, biting his lip and mumbling about having to go home for dinner.  
  
\  
  
The back seat of Darren’s blue Honda, cramped and hot. It’s just turning autumn outside, but in the car it’s sweltering. Darren’s hands tug at Chris’s shirt, pulls him as close as Chris will allow. There’s sweat sticking to Darren’s forehead, his curls heavy and stuck to the back of his neck. Chris’s cheeks are pink and it drives Darren crazy.  
  
They’re sitting side by side, thighs and knees touching, kissing and breathing heavily when they break apart. Darren turns, lips never leaving Chris’s, and brings his knees up onto the seat and positions himself so he’s kneeling next to Chris, crowding into his space even more, and putting a hand on either side of Chris’s shoulder.  
  
Chris pulls back, licking his lips, and says, “I should probably get going. I’ve got a ton of homework.”  
  
Darren nods and pulls away completely, both of them climbing out of the back seat of the car and shivering when their overheated skin hits the cool outside air. Darren hops into the drivers seat and Chris sits beside him.  
  
The drive is short to Chris’s house and they have the windows down the whole way. Chris hops out quickly when Darren pulls into his driveway, throws him a wave and tells Darren he’ll see him at school tomorrow.  
  
When Darren gets home, up in his bed with his door locked, he thinks about the back seat of his car, the sounds Chris made and the way he looked. He unbuttons his jeans, pushes them down his hips and off his legs, quickly removing his boxers as well. He wraps his hand around his dick, already hard from before. Chris next to him, underneath him, lips dark red from all their kissing.  
  
He moves his hand faster, not wasting any time at all. All he can think about is Chris, even when he tries to force himself to think about the girls at school in their skimpy cheerleading uniforms, the fabric tight and hugging their breasts. It doesn’t last, though, because that’s not what he wants. He wants Chris, mumbling into Darren’s neck about how good he feels, how much he wants it. He’s gone farther than just kissing with girls, the back seat of his Honda had seen a lot of Brandy Fuller last homecoming, but nothing has ever made him feel like this before.  
  
He tightens the grip on his cock, letting his palm brush up and over the head of his dick, collecting the moisture that’s there and spreading it down. His hand moves easier now, faster, and he’s suddenly hit with the thought of  _what if Chris was doing this. What if this was Chris’s hand, stroking Darren’s cock. He’d bite down on Darren’s shoulder, tell Darren how hot he is for it_.  
  
Darren comes quickly, face buried in his pillow and Chris on his mind.  
  
\  
  
So Darren realizes he’s probably not entirely straight. He’s not an idiot, he knows that Chris is a guy, no mistaking that, and Darren knows how much he likes that fact. He likes Chris’s body, no soft curves or hairless legs. It scares him, just a little, but he’s becoming more and more okay with it each day. The more he sees Chris, the more he spends time with him, the more at ease he feels with everything. So maybe Darren’s not straight. It’s okay, because he has Chris, even if it’s just as friends, and he’s okay with that.  
  
But it’s even better when he has Chris like this, laid out next to him on his bed, kissing up Darren’s neck and sucking little red marks under the collar of Darren’s t-shirt.  
  
"Chris," Darren whines, his hands skimming over Chris’s sides and around his back.  
  
"Hmmm?" Chris mumbles, acting coy even though he knows exactly what he’s doing to Darren.  
  
Darren doesn’t say anything back, just pushes closer. Chris can feel the light stubble that Darren’s been complaining about lately scratching across Chris’s chin. It should hurt, at least be mildly uncomfortable, but Chris likes it, wonders if it’ll leave red marks across his face. Chris reaches a hand up to rub against the scratchy hair on Darren’s throat and underneath his chin. They’re so close already, only an inch or two separating their bodies, that when Darren jerks his hips forward on instinct, they crash into Chris.  
  
They both moan, loud and obscene in Darren’s bedroom, and Darren rocks his hips forward into the friction before he can think what he’s doing. His brain finally catches up and they freeze.  
  
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Darren repeats, jerking his hips back. "I swear, I didn’t mean to."  
  
"It’s okay," Chris reassures him, tries to calm him down.  
  
"I mean, I’ve been think about doing that—wanting to do that. I wouldn’t do it without asking you if it was okay first," Darren says, concern written all over his face.  
  
"Wait. You’ve been thinking about…that?" Chris asks and he knows his pale skin must be tinged pink.  
  
"The last couple of times we’ve kissed, yeah," Darren tells him. "I’ve really wanted to feel you. See what it’s like."  
  
Chris clears his throat. “We could do that. If you wanted to.” Chris makes the mistake of letting his eyes wonder down, down to where he can see the outline of Darren’s hard dick through his jeans, big and straining against the denim.  
  
"Really?" Darren asks, like he can’t believe his luck.  
  
"Yeah. I think you should figure out if you like that—sort of thing, I don’t know what it’s called—with people. Like me," Chris finishes lamely, unsure about how he wants to word this.  
  
But Darren seems to understand. He places a hand on Chris’s hip and slowly, purposely, brings their hips together, nothing accidental about it. Darren’s mouth falls open at the first contact, not at all prepared for how  _good_  it feels to have Chris’s dick rub against his. His erection is trapped between Chris’s upper thigh and Chris’s own hard cock, Darren’s breath stuttering out when Chris rolls his hips to meet Darren’s.  
  
Their hands are everywhere, pressed up against chests and scratching into backs. The friction is amazing, even through two layers of denim, and Darren’s gentle rocking turns into firm thrusting. Chris lurches forward to kiss him, pressing even closer together. It’s messy, not at all perfect, but neither of them can concentrate through the feeling of their hard dicks rubbing together, sending shooting sparks of pleasure down their spines.  
  
They fumble with it, unsure of how all this works, but relying on instinct to get them through. Darren just knows he needs more of this, more of Chris, and he grinds against Chris a little faster.  
  
Darren is pushing his hips into Chris—harder faster— his hands gripping tightly onto Chris’s shoulders. He rolls them over, settling on top of Chris, weight pushing him into the mattress.  
  
It doesn’t last as long as either one of them want. But they’re teenage boys, and it only takes a few seconds of Darren thrusting down on top of Chris, the hard line of Chris’s dick pressed up against Darren’s, until he freezes, shuddering on top of Chris and his cock pulsing inside his jeans. Chris stretches up, his neck pulled tight as he reaches up and buries his face into Darren’s shoulder.  
  
Chris is struggling to breath, Darren feels like dead weight on top of him, and he pokes Darren in the side until he rolls off and onto his stomach, stretched out next to Chris. Chris has a million questions he wants to ask. They’ve never talked about it, never talked about what the kissing means or how Darren feels. Chris doesn’t want to be weak or insecure, not in front of his best friend, so he keeps his face blank.  
  
"I know you’ve got left over pajamas here somewhere," Darren says, his voice muffled from when he face planted into the pillow. "I could get them for you if you want to stay. Watch TV or something?"  
  
Chris wants to say yes, cuddle down into Darren with some mindless sitcom on in the background. But he can’t. Because he doesn’t know if that’s what Darren wants and he can’t force himself to ask.  
  
"I think I’m going to go home and get cleaned up," Chris says, gesturing down to his jeans. He tries to hide his embarrassment, but Darren’s face is still down in the pillow.  
  
Chris leaves, quietly shutting Darren’s bedroom door behind, and Darren stays on his bed, face down, for hours.  
  
\  
  
It’s the weekend, Saturday or Sunday but Darren can’t remember which. He’s been up all night thinking, watched the sun go down and come back up. He sees his dad leave to go visit a friend and says goodbye to his mom with a kiss when she leaves to go grocery shopping.  
  
Late-morning is quickly becoming early-afternoon when Darren hears Chuck shuffle down the stairs. He ignores Darren and walks over to the coffee pot, filling his mug with luke warm caffein. Darren waits patiently, foot tapping against the leg of the kitchen table. Chuck is still silent when he sits down opposite of Darren and picks up the newspaper.  
  
"Why did you ask if I was gay?" Darren questions before he can lose his nerve. He’s cracking his knuckles one by one, hoping to let out some of the nervous energy he feels balled up inside.  
  
Chuck just sighs like he knew this was coming and settles the newspaper down on the table. He takes a sip of coffee and before he can answer, Darren is already speaking again.  
  
"I mean, just because I’m interested in theater and we live in San Francisco doesn’t make me gay. It’s actually kind of insulting that you’d buy into those stereotypes," Darren says, proud of himself for keeping his composure and surely sounding older than his seventeen years.  
  
Chuck is laughing, though, and it confuses Darren. “What’s so funny?” he barks out. Does Chuck not understand how serious this is?  
  
"Of course I don’t think you’re gay just because you like theater and the color pink." Chuck laughs some more. "I mean, seriously, dude?"  
  
"Well, I don’t know," Darren mumbles, stares at the newspaper until the black ink and white paper turns gray.  
  
"And it’s not that I ‘think you’re gay’," Chuck air quotes. "That’s for you to figure out, not me. But I see the way you look at Chris."  
  
"Oh?" Darren says, voice high and strained, hoping to not give anything away.  
  
"Yeah. It’s the way you looked at that Brandy chick before homecoming, except way more intense. Way more," he pauses to finish off his coffee. "I didn’t know if you were struggling with shit or if you thought you couldn’t come talk to me. So I brought it up."  
  
"Okay," Darren says, and then quieter, "I think I like Chris."  
  
Chuck gets up from the table and rinses out his cup in the sink. “It’s cool bro, but you should probably tell Chris.” He ruffles his hand in Darren’s hair like he used to do when they were kids. “Have you seen any of my guitar picks?”  
  
\  
  
Darren texts Chris almost immediately after Chuck leaves for band practice.  
  
 _meet me at our spot? 20 minutes._  
  
Their spot is a pier down on the bay, long wooden planks leading out and benches facing the ocean. Darren gets there first and watches the people walk by as he waits for Chris; a couple walking hand in hand and pushing a stroller, an old man in a funny hat staring out into the ocean, a toddler barely balancing on his feet and green ice cream on his face.  
  
His dad took him fishing at the very end of the pier when Darren was a kid, teaching him how to bait the hook and cast a line. It’s so peaceful out here, not a tourist in sight. It’s the first place he took Chris when Chris was still new to San Francisco. They sat on one of the benches and watched the sunset, bright pinks and reds falling into the gray ocean. Chris had told Darren he’d never seen anything more beautiful and how happy he was that he had moved here. But that was almost two years ago.  
  
He tries to think of what he could possibly say to Chris, but nothing sounds right, nothing is good enough. He’s worried that Chris will laugh in his face and tell him to find a new lunch table on Monday.  
  
His heart stops for a second when Chris sits down next to him unannounced, shocking Darren out of his thoughts.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Chris. Way to scare the shit out of me," Darren says and he can still feel his heart racing.  
  
"Boo," Chris says simply, a small smirk on his lips. Darren suddenly has the urge to kiss Chris on those perfect lips and yeah, okay, it’s time to talk. Darren gathers his courage.  
  
"So first I just want to say sorry for not talking to you about this sooner. ‘Cause you deserve to know, but I was still figuring stuff out," Darren starts, nerves making his feet bounce. He glances at Chris and his face looks blank. "And then we kissed and it made everything more confusing, but in a good way. Because I really like kissing you, did I ever tell you that? Your lips are like, super soft and—"  
  
"Darren, you’re rambling," Chris cuts him off. He has an amused little smile on his face.  
  
"Right, yeah, okay." Darren flushes, his face warm despite the cool air around them. He takes a breath and continues, "I think I like you. Like, like you."  
  
Chris is quiet, not sure what to say. “You think?”  
  
"No, I’m sure. I like you. Does that freak you out?" Darren pauses, hope in his voice when he finishes with, "please don’t be freaked out."  
  
"I’m not," Chris says and he finally looks at Darren. "You like me?"  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
"And you’re sure? This isn’t like the time you thought piercing your lip was a good idea and then you bled for hours?" Chris says and Darren groans next to him.  
  
"You said you wouldn’t bring that up again, Chris! Yes, trying to pierce my lip with a safety pin was a bad idea. Yes, you told mmmph," Darren is stopped short when Chris leans over and kisses him.  
  
"I like you, too. How could I not?" Chris says, his voice high and his eyes bright. "But aren’t you worried what people are going to think, the kids at school?"  
  
"Well, apparently people already think I’m gay, so it shouldn’t be too far of a stretch," Darren jokes. "And if they care? Fuck ‘em."  
  
Darren turns his face and kisses Chris hard on the mouth, in the middle of the pier and with people all around them. He doesn’t care though. He’s happy, so fucking happy. Because they’re young and maybe they’re not in love, not yet, but they’re on the way there, Darren knows it.


End file.
